Alright, so I decided to jump on the vegan dessert bandwagon, or maybe I just really wanted some pie without feeling like a total slob afterwards. You know how it is. So, vegan pudding pie it was. Sounds complicated, right? Like you need a degree in food science or something. Turns out, not really. It was mostly me, a blender, and a prayer.
The ‘Why Bother?’ Part
Honestly, I had this block of silken tofu in the fridge that was giving me the side-eye every time I opened the door. You know that look. Like, “Are you ever going to use me, or am I destined to become a science experiment?” Plus, I found a pre-made graham cracker crust hiding in the pantry from who-knows-when. Seemed like a sign. Waste not, want not, especially when it means I get pie.
Getting Down to Business: The Crust
Okay, so “business” is a strong word for unwrapping a store-bought crust. But hey, effort was made. I poked it with a fork a few times – read somewhere that helps. Then I baked it for a bit, just to get it crispy. Almost forgot about it, which is pretty standard procedure for me when the oven’s on. Managed to rescue it before it turned into actual charcoal, so, win number one.
The Main Event: That Vegan Pudding Magic (or Mess)
This is where I figured things would get dicey. Vegan pudding can be… an adventure. Sometimes it’s amazing, other times it tastes like sweetened sadness. So, I grabbed that silken tofu – the star of our show, apparently. Plopped it right into the blender. No finesse, just pure determination.
Then I started throwing things in. Cocoa powder, and not just a little. I mean, if it’s gonna be chocolate, let it be CHOCOLATE. Some maple syrup, because refined sugar is the enemy these days, or so they tell me. A good glug of vanilla extract – the real stuff, not that imitation junk. And a pinch of salt, because salt makes sweet things sweeter. It’s science, people.
I whizzed it all up. It took a while. Scraped down the sides a few times. It started looking like actual pudding, which was a relief. I was half expecting a lumpy, beige nightmare. Gave it a quick taste. Not bad! Actually, surprisingly decent. Didn’t have that weird tofu-y aftertaste I was dreading.
Assembly and the Waiting Game
Poured the chocolate concoction into the now-cooled (and thankfully not burnt) pie crust. Smoothed it out with a spatula. It looked pretty legit, if I do say so myself. Like something you might actually pay money for, almost.
And then, the worst part of any pudding pie experience: the chilling. It had to go into the fridge for hours. HOURS. Why does the good stuff always require so much patience? It’s a cruel world. I peeked at it every 30 minutes, like that would somehow speed up the process. It didn’t.
The Verdict
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it was time. Pulled it out of the fridge. It looked firm. Good sign. I cut a slice. It held its shape! Another good sign. My pies usually sort of… slump in despair.
Took a bite. And you know what? It was actually really good. Creamy, properly chocolatey, and the texture was spot on. Not gritty, not weirdly gelatinous. Just smooth. My partner, who’s usually skeptical of my vegan experiments, even went back for seconds. That’s basically a five-star review in this house.
So, yeah. Vegan pudding pie. It happened. It wasn’t a disaster. It was actually pretty easy, all things considered. Will I be opening a vegan bakery anytime soon? Definitely not. But will I make this again when a chocolate craving hits and I’ve got some tofu judging me from the fridge? Absolutely. It’s a solid, no-fuss dessert that doesn’t make you feel like you need to run a marathon afterwards. And that, my friends, is a win in my book.
